Twas the week before Christmas and all through the house,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse,
I was warm and snug tucked inside my bed,
When my brain clicked on, filling my head,
With these thoughts that I wish to espouse.
For the past eight years, Broker World magazine has kindly been an outlet for many of my professional articles. Over the years I have received many generous and insightful remarks from readers that have served to validate my efforts and to genuinely make me feel that the efforts were appreciated.
In that vein, I want to in turn thank all the BWM readers who have recently taken the time to e-mail, text, or even telephone me with kind words about the poignant nature of my last article, offering shared health experiences, and even some medical advice!
For those who may not recall, or may have missed it, in my last article, entitled The Healthiest Guy In The Hospital, I recounted the events surrounding my very surprising and near-fatal “widow-maker” heart attack of September 10, and the challenging aftermath of the ensuing weeks.
As an update, I am pleased to report that the thrice-weekly Cardiac Rehab is going well, and that my wife and I are both adjusting to my full retirement (October 30th) from the long term care insurance industry.
What I did not realize at the time that I penned the article is that, in addition to the obvious challenges attached to the physical recovery after such a traumatic event, the tremendous psychological aspect takes on a life of its own.
To this end, on Black Friday, I acquiesced to encouragement from my family and bought a new Apple watch. Not because I wanted to check email or answer my phone and texts, but because of the cardiac features. My watch measures how many beats per minute my heart is pumping, and when I get errant chest pain, I can even give myself a one lead EKG to eliminate any fear of atrial fibrillation. Yikes.
A few newfound truths:
Forget about FOMO–fear of missing out–the new Fear–FOODI–centers around simply “fear of over doing it” because when I do, there is a price to be paid. Superman has left the building.
Sleep has taken on greater priority, and the chronic fatigue is still in evidence three months after the event. The rare pre-event 10–15-minute power nap has yielded on most days to a more proper 45–90-minute siesta or I am a narcoleptic zombie by dinner time.
My pre-event perfect blood pressure is now incredibly low, which means that I am now perpetually cold and wearing heavy sweatshirts or sweaters around the house. This also accounts for the fatigue as well.
Because of the blood thinners, I bruise as easily as a peach and am usually sporting unexplained bruises all over my body. I contemplated asking Santa for a bubble wrap body suit.
Reading labels for sodium and saturated fat content at the grocery store is a real drag and downer.
Despite these newfound truths, they all beat the alternative and every day truly is a gift…that is why it is called the Present.
During this season of gratitude and giving thanks, I want to express my thanks to my good friends and partners at Krause Financial for their wise encouragement of my medical retirement and focus on my recovery and quality time with my family. I again express gratitude for the medical skills that saved my life, for the exceptional caregiving [and hovering] of my family, and for all of you who have expressed good wishes. Best wishes for a prosperous and healthy 2025!